Bruised
by isidore131
Summary: Harry discovers a secret about his father and something new about Snape. Not slash.


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters or situations residing within the HP universe, nor am I making any money off this story. This is written purely for my own entertainment, although I hope you enjoy it as well. 

Author's Notes: Just a cookie filled with wishful thinking. I really, really want Harry to have a parental figure who lasts for a good long while in his life, and I don't think Remus Lupin's really going to cut it . . . but I guess we'll see. 

Please review. Thank you, and keep in mind I know this is really dumb. Like I said, wishful thinking. . . .

Bruised and filthy with soot and ash, Harry limped into Dumbledore's office.

What he saw shocked him.

A man with raven black hair streaked with silver, round glasses, a longish nose, and brown eyes moved quickly toward Harry, looking considerably older than his forty years.

Harry's father.

Alive.

Harry took a step back and his eyes filled with tears.

The man with black hair stopped moving forward, looking deeply troubled.

"W-who are you? Why are you doing this to me?" Harry demanded.

"I-I'm your father, Harry . . ."

"No . . ." Harry said.

"Yes, I—"

"NO!" Harry screamed. "NO, YOU CAN'T BE ALIVE!" Harry lashed out, hitting James hard on the chest, pummeling him as he started sobbing in earnest. "My dad is dead . . . I don't have anyone . . . please don't lie anymore," he begged as he sobbed into James' shirt.

James let himself drop to the ground as he began murmuring soothing sounds and rocked the boy, the almost grown man, in his arms.

Half-heartedly, Harry pounded the older man's chest. "H-how . . . ?" he managed between breathing in deep lungfuls of air.

"How could I leave you with the Dursley's for so long? How am I still alive?"

Harry gulped and nodded, still clinging tightly to his father, unable to let go of the comfort of being held in his father's arms. James seemed even more reluctant to let go.

"Harry, when the spell hit me, or more accurately when it brushed past me, I was knocked out cold for twenty minutes, enough time for You-Know-Who to disappear from Godric's Hollow completely. When I came to, I had no idea who I was or what I was doing there. I went upstairs because I heard you crying, and when I saw y-your mother laying there, dead, I panicked and ran.

"The spell You-Know-Who cast cost me my memory for a time, you see. I was living as a Muggle in France when it all came back to me five years later. Immediately I went to see Dumbledore, and he explained to me why I couldn't have you back. We both decided—and I realize now how unfair this was to you, Harry—that even when you came to school, it was best you continued to believe I was dead."

Harry drew in a breath. "How dare you," he fumed into his father's neck. "How dare you two decide that for me?"

Despite his anger, he pulled his father harder against him and sobbed into his neck, though he had no more tears to cry.

"Harry, adults . . . we can be stupid sometimes. We thought it was best not to burden you with the knowledge that I lived when you had so much on your shoulders already . . . I'm sorry, Harry. You're right, we had no right to make that decision for you . . . please forgive me."

Harry sniffled and nodded. "Don't ever go away again. Please," he begged.

"I won't ever leave you again, Harry, until it's time for me to go. That's the best I can promise."

Harry nodded again. "I-I know."

"I want you to know I was always there, Harry. Always. I-I lived with Mrs. Figg," James said. "She saw fit to hide me . . . I used to watch you through the window, and one time, she let me make Polyjuice Potion so I could babysit you in her place on one of Dudley's birthdays."

Looking back, Harry thought he could still remember that day . . . Mrs. Figg had kept staring at him and pressing food at him, urging him to eat more and more . . . and she hadn't made him look at cat pictures at all. At the time, he'd just thought she was ill or something, but now . . . 

Harry leaned back to stare at his father's face and before he could stop it, a question burst from him. "Why were you such an arse when you were young?"

James looked momentarily shocked, then burst out laughing, causing the age to disappear from his face, at least momentarily.

He didn't stop for five full minutes, and then he only got it controlled into chortles that escaped between every word. "I take it you've been talking to Severus Snape?"

Harry glared, though he was smiling. "I saw it in his Pensieve," he said tightly.

"I see," said James, sobering momentarily before tittering again. "Did Sirius tell you that I saved Snape's life?"

"Yes," Harry huffed, "But you were also an arsehole."

James did not deny it, but he was still chortling.

"I want you to apologize to Professor Snape, Dad." Harry said.

James sobered instantly and completely. "What?"

"Apologize. It's the least you can do. Really, Dad, you hung him upside down in the air."

"No. I-I mean. What did you call me?"

"Oh." Harry blushed. "Dad."

James closed his eyes. "Say it again, okay? Just . . . just one more time."

Harry smiled and said, "I love you, Dad."

James crushed Harry to him and finally let go of the tears he'd been holding inside. "I'm sorry, Harry. I'm so sorry, I love you," he ranted into Harry's shoulder.

Harry, who had been sure he'd cried all the tears from his body, hugged James back just as hard and began crying once again.

After a while, James looked up at Harry. "I'm so sorry," he pleaded.

Harry smiled shakily at him. "It's over now and . . . and I think I understand."

James smiled in grateful relief and hugged Harry one last time, this last almost crushing the boy's ribcage.

"I still want you to apologize to Professor Snape, Dad," Harry said, though the words were muffled in his father's chest.

"Whatever you want, Harry. Let's go find him and I'll do it right now."

"Even if he acts like a prat?"

"Even if he acts like a prat," James promised.

"'Cause he will," Harry warned. "He's not the forgiving kind, you know."

"I know. Let's go." He smirked evilly. "We'll give old Snivellus the shock of his life," James cackled.

"Dad!" Harry protested, though he was smiling.

At this, Dumbledore cleared his throat.

James and Harry, who'd been heading for the door, turned around looking slightly sheepish. 

"Right," Harry said. "Sum up of the end, and such. Sorry."

Dumbledore conjured two chairs and the men sat down in front of his desk. Immediately, Harry launched into his story, wanting to get it over with and spend time with his father.

Severus Snape didn't know what to do with himself. He now had Draco Malfoy to look after until he came of age, which, admittedly, wasn't too long from now, but it would be quite the hassle getting the boy to express his grief over the death of his father and especially, the death of his mother.

So, he'd set up a room in the castle for Draco to spend the summer in until Severus could access his account at Gringotts and purchase a home. He'd long ago given up Snape Manor to Voldemort; it had been demolished in one of the final battles.

Potter had been regretful.

Stupid boy. Bricks meant nothing. This was what Severus had learned.

However, at the moment, Severus was completely without anything to occupy himself. It was . . . novel. Usually, he had to concern himself with either Potter or Malfoy, but at the moment, Potter was meeting with Albus and Draco was sleeping peacefully in the hospital wing, blessedly out of the coma he'd dropped into after killing his father. Failing the boys, he had Voldemort to worry about.

Now, it seemed, he might finally have time for himself, and quite frankly, he had no idea what to do with it.

A knock sounded on his door.

_Oh, good_, he thought. _Work_. "Come in!" he called cheerfully, although it came out sounding rather harsh.

The door opened and Potter stuck his head inside. "Professor Snape?" He said by way of greeting.

"Potter," Severus said, though he could not bring himself to snarl at the boy.

"How is the . . . I mean, did it go away, like it had on Mr. Malfoy?"

Severus' felt his lips twitch into almost a smile, then pulled his sleeves up to allow Potter to inspect his arms, which were empty of the Dark Mark.

Potter took his time, then looked up and smiled at Severus hesitantly. "Good?" he said.

Severus nodded curtly, once, and Har-_Potter's_ smile became real. "Good," he said. "I brought someone with me."

Severus glanced behind the boy, then quirked an eyebrow at him.

"He's outside," Potter said. "He wants to apologize to you. Come on in," the boy said, turning towards the door. "It'll be a bit of a shock," Potter warned.

A shock of inky black hair with gray streaks was the first thing Severus saw.

_No,_ he denied. _It can't be_.

But the brown bespectacled eyes came into view, and Severus felt his eyes widen in shock. "Potter?" he spat.

The man entered the room fully and nodded. "Snape," he greeted, but there was nothing cold in his voice.

"Mr. Potter," Severus addressed Harry, "If this is your idea of a joke . . . if you have made Polyjuice Potion . . ."

"Professor Snape," the boy said quietly. "How could I Polyjuice someone who was dead?"

Severus glared at the logic behind the statement, then looked at the man who was unmistakably James Potter. He crossed his arms. "Well, the great James Potter walks among us after all," he drawled.

Then he grimaced. Perhaps Draco was having too much of an influence on him after all.

Both Potters rolled their eyes.

Then James Potter said something Severus Snape never expected to hear. 

"Severus, I'm sorry I was such an arsehole to you."

For the first time in his life, Severus Snape nearly fainted. "Excuse me?"

The elder Potter sneered, then repeated himself.

"No, I don't believe I heard you. What was that?" _Am I _joking _with James Potter?_

James glared and Severus' lips twitched.

Realization flared in James' eyes and he chuckled ruefully. "Do you want to hang me upside down in front of the whole school?" he offered sincerely.

"Only if you wear loose-fitting robes . . ." Severus said, and this time his smile did a bit more than twitch. It wasn't quite a smile, but . . . it was a start.

Then James shocked him even further by walking up to Severus and offering his hand for a handshake.

For a moment, Severus just stared down at his hand. Then, when James' smile faltered and he started to pull his hand away, Severus grabbed it, shook it, and dropped it as if it were a grenade.

James smiled brilliantly. "Wonderful to see you again, Severus. Do hope you like your newfound freedom."

Severus gestured to Harry. "I think, for the next few months at least, I find myself as similarly trapped as you are. Mr. Malfoy has recently been orphaned."

James nodded and slung an arm around Potter's slightly bony shoulders. "I hope you enjoy it as much as I will."

For a moment, Severus and James shared a long look that expressed sympathy and joy in newfound fatherhood; then James nodded cordially and started away.

Potter hung behind and grinned at Severus, then ran to catch up with his old man.

It wasn't friendship, Harry knew, but looking back at Professor Snape . . . 

. . . he could see it was forgiveness.


End file.
